About You
by GrimGrave
Summary: Requested by Major Mike Powell III. As Sophitia and Ivy travel together in search of Nightmare, the Grecian warrior finds herself unable to get the British noble out of her head. Fluff.


Disclaimer: Soul Calibur belongs to Namco Bandai and not GrimGrave. GrimGrave doesn't make money out of writing fiction.

Requested by _**Major Mike Powell III**_

Thanks go to **_Supreme_ Distraction** for Beta-ing!

_**About You**_

I find myself staring at the camp fire, watching its flames flickering in the night's shadows. I ponder, purposely ignoring everything else around me but the auburn light and my own thoughts-thoughts which I've been dwelling on for days – _weeks_ – now. All of them revolve around _you_, the instigator, and no matter how hard I try I can't think of anything else.

Not even about the cursed blade, **Soul Edge**.

The flames begin to falter and I toss a couple of broken branches to rekindle it. This action, albeit short, lets me take my mind off of you, though I soon find myself staring absentmindedly at the roaring fire with you in mind once again.

I still don't know why I asked you if I could accompany you. We may have the same goals, but we are far too different, you and I. While I fight for the greater good – a holy mission – to stop darkness from taking hold of this world, you fight for…

…Come to think of it, you never told me your reasons. You seek to destroy the evil sword, that's all I know. You're distant, purposely keeping me away while exhibiting your cruel, mischievous behaviour with pranks and snappy remarks that have revealed to me that your sense of humour is deranged.

And speaking of revealing, how can you dress like that? I've seen streetwalkers back in my homeland wearing more clothes than you and it baffles me how you can walk around in your attire like it was the most usual thing to do. The only armour you wear is one shoulder-length gauntlet. Everything else is just entici- _absurd_ looking attire that shows off your voluptu- _well-formed_ body and curvy assets. I'm speechless, yet intrigued.

As if I didn't have trouble sleeping as it is with the images of you and your nonchalant behaviour. What bothers me even more is why I'm making such a fuss out of it.

I yawn, feeling a bit drowsy. It's been dark for a while, but these past nights have allowed darkness to arrive a lot quicker. It is only now that the night has officially arrived and I'm ready to doze off into slumber… only that I can't.

Not when you've just come back from collecting wood and are sitting down on the log on the other side of the fire that makes up for our so-called camp. One glance in your direction – full view of your plentiful cleavage and smooth curves – and I'm feeling wide awake. And I don't even know why.

How often does my gaze find itself wandering back to your figure? How many nights' worth of sleep have I lost because of you? I can't even remember now.

All I know is that there is something about you—something much more than just your talent for irritating me. I just can't put my finger on it… But my heart aches. And not the bad kind of ache, but more of pleasant kind… if that even makes sense. As much as you keep aggravating me, it also makes me sort of…happy. It's not like you're goofing around – I've seen you in battle a few times already – but you know how to lighten the mood.

I appreciate that about you.

I notice your stern glare from across the fire and immediately look up – have you been talking? – to see you roll your eyes. "I need you to pay attention, Sophitia! We have to increase our pace if we are to catch up with _that knight_… We might have to travel during the night as well."

I tense. It's moments like this that you show how serious you actually are: a complete contrast to how you usually behave. "Y-Yes, got it. But without enough rest we probably won't be able to defeat him…"

"Tch!" Your features twist back into the scowl. "While we sleep, he gains more and more distance. Are you really fine with that?"

I feel my anger reaching the surface. "Of course not! But what good will come from us finally catching up with him, completely exhausted?!" Fuelled by the memories of previous aggravations, I can't help but lash out. "You're so stupid!"

Before I can even think of regretting my outburst, you've already gotten up from your seat and are literally staring me down: clear blue eyes pierce through me and I find myself unable to respond. It's pinning me down where I sit and I feel uneasy. "What was that, little girl?"

All I can do is to (barely) meet your stare and inwardly tremble. The words won't come to me and your gaze intensifies. "I'm the one who caught his trail and, if it wasn't for me, you'd still be roaming around aimlessly! I allowed you to accompany me because you too seek the destruction of _that blade_, and you talk back to **me**? You're the one who has kept daydreaming nonstop for days now like a complete airhead and you're calling me stupid?"

The words really won't come to me. I can't even look you in the eyes anymore and I shift back to the fire, tossing in another branch to keep it alive. You don't say anything else, but I can tell by your audible breathing that you're upset – because of _my_ stupidity just now – and it hurts.

It aches an awful lot.

"Honestly," you sigh, your voice having lost its sternness. It's a lot calmer now. "What's with you, Sophitia? You _do_ realize that you've been spacing out a lot these past days, right?"

I can only nod.

You sigh again. "May I inquire why so?"

"It's you," I blurt out without thinking. "It's just you…"

"Huh? Me? You're daydreaming about me?" I nod again, still unable to meet your gaze. Laughter leaves your full, soft lips and your hand pats my shoulder. "Have I been making you uncomfortable?" A gasp leaves you when I don't reply. "…Are you serious?" Gloved fingers gently cup my chin and tilt my head towards clear azure orbs: your gaze is steady, burrowing into mine so intensively that I nearly gasp. I know that look far too well; I've seen it in the mirror back home countless times.

It's the look of a woman who is sick of being alone. Your breath is shallow as you speak. "In what way am I making you uncomfortable Sophitia?"

Steady, aching heart-beats throb against my chest and my face feels hot; breathless, bewildered and with a sudden urge, I crash my lips against yours without thinking. The kiss (if you can call it that) is searing hot despite the cold wind and I feel your lips slowly give in, reciprocating.

How long did we kiss? It feels like a small eternity before I even realize what I've done and, panicked, I jolt backwards. I don't know what kind of face I'm making but apparently you find it amusing enough to laugh out loud. "Honestly, dear, I'm the one who should be behaving like that… What were you thinking?"

"I… I didn't think." For once, I'm being honest. My mind was blank when I did that; it just felt like the right thing to do.

You laugh even harder before calming down, bit by bit. As you do, the look in your eyes is even gentler than before and, dare I even say… vixenish? My heart nearly jumps out of my chest when your lips curl into a smirk, the mischievous kind that you usually wear when you're pulling pranks on me. "You're right, who needs to think?"

Before I can let out a yelp, you've already pounced on me and are pulling me in for another kiss.

I suppose that I won't get any sleep this night either.

**FIN**


End file.
